Flowers

This is a poem I wrote before I had ever been kissed. I wrote what I wanted it to be like and combined my current feelings.

When our lips touch now, I don't know what to think. I remember the first time. A lip print on mine, Graffitti on my face. A mark, for the time that tells no age, "I was here". My face was red; as it was when the teacher scolded me. There were flowers in my eyes, Chrysanthemums Roses Lilies Dasies That stopped me from seeing. There were flowers in my ears, Chrysanthemums Roses Lilies That stopped me from hearing. There were flowers on my toungue, Chrysanthemums Roses That stopped me from tasting. There were flowers on my lips, Chrysanthemums That stopped me from saying That I feel the way you feel to me. So I turned away, Thinking. Now, I turn towards you. Trying to say, I love you; The dictionary used up all the words, So now I will make my own; Wet words that have mouths moving but no sound. But, I stop. Turn away I always do. There are flowers in my head.

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